Christmas at the Treehouse
by Gemini Explorer
Summary: The explorers celebrate Christmas as John and Marguerite announce their engagement! They exchange gifts with each other and with visiting Zanga Royals. Finn gets a fine new knife and an appreciation for not killing unnecesarily. And they see a nova!


As ever, we want to thank the owners of the rights to, "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" for permission to use their characters and settings for our fiction. Characters not seen on the TV show are the creations of Gemini Explorer. This story is set in late 1922, Finn's first Christmas in the Treehouse. This is also the story where John and Marguerite announced their formal engagement, the wedding to take place as soon as possible after leaving the Plateau. As other fics have shown, that took about two additional years. But romantic unions have already formed among the three couples: the Roxtons, the Malones, and the Challengers. George and Finn (Nicole Elizabeth Finnegan) will not know for two more years that Jessie Challenger died of flu in London in 1921, freeing them to marry. Thus, they were struggling with guilt issues over thinking that George was still married. But he has found such a deep and contenting love in Finn that he has resolved to divorce Jessie and marry Finn, despite considerable guilt over the matter. Be aware that Finn cuts his hair and trims his beard, so he looks much as he did in Season One, before the show's writers decided to give him more of a disheveled look, maybe to foster the eccentric scientist stereotype. Finn fell in love with George not for the usual reasons alone, but because she sees in him not just a mate, but also a counselor, father figure, and mentor, and a man who will see her through adapting to living in Britain in a century not of her birth or her understanding. Ned Malone has returned, and Veronica no longer regards him as just a friend or brother. And now, our story! It's Rated as Mature, mainly for somewhat adult themes and because the couples in the Treehouse already share quarters with their future spouses.

Christmas at the Treehouse

by

Gemini Explorer and Caroline

'Twas the night before Christmas...Well, not quite. But Challenger noted that it was Dec. 15, as he worked to make a calendar for the following year, based on the usual Augustan system with which they were all familiar. Not having recourse to buying calendars in shops or receiving them from advertisers, he had each year since they had been on the Plateau calculated the next year's days and months, posting the result in the lab.

He decided to ask Veronica, the artist among their number, to paint an image of one of them or perhaps of a dinosaur, for the calendar art.

Hearing Lord Roxton walk into the lab, Challenger glanced up and said, "Ah, Roxton! I'm making next year's calendar. What picture shall I ask Veronica to paint for it? Or, perhaps, I should have her do a picture for each month. What would you like as the image for January?"

"I'd like to 'picture' us home in Avebury, warming my and Marguerite's feet at my own fireplace," the hunter joked. "I don't know, George...maybe have each of the women for a month. Then, I want a leopard and an elephant on it. Those are among my favorite animals. And, I think a month with a tiger would be nice, too. Now that I think about it, perhaps Marguerite would put on that garnet dress and sit for Veronica to do her portrait. That would be good for January."

Challenger concurred. "She would indeed be lovely. But look here, John: it is already Dec. 15, and we haven't discussed Christmas. Should we not do something special? It would be a boost for morale, and the ladies can bake cookies or something. We can exchange presents, sing a few songs, that sort of thing. No snow doesn't have to mean no Christmas. We're English. We govern half of the globe. We should be able to celebrate our holidays wherever we are. Many of our kind do, after all, in India, Africa, British Honduras. We are not alone in not having snow."

"Hey, Genius," came Finn's voice from the other side of the lab, where she was mixing something in a glass beaker. "What's this 'us' thing? Two of us are Brazilians and Ned is a _Yanqui._ Aren't we invited to celebrate, too?" And she stuck out her tongue at him in playful reprimand.

"Um, actually, Darling," he countered, "Veronica was fathered by an American, and you say that you remember your parents speaking mainly English at home before that ...awful event...happened. You may have been born to visiting North Americans. You have that accent when speaking English. Not that you don't also speak Portuguese as well as Vasco da Gama...I suppose that Veronica can claim citizenship either here or in the USA. You, we may never know about. Poor girl. At least, Marguerite _has_ a birth certificate, if she can ever spirit it away from that nasty Chinaman. Whatever. Yes, you girls and Ned are certainly part of our family. Forgive my ethnocentrism. It's just that when one is of the noblest race on Earth, one sometimes forgets that you lesser beings also have rights." He chuckled at his presumed witticism. Roxton grinned, too.

"If you want Veronica to paint your calendar, wise guy, you'd better not act too smug. We're genetically Anglo, but we're also as much _brasileira_ as any _carioca_ on Ipanema beach. But it's a good idea. We should celebrate Christmas. We're all Christian; even though Vee teased me last week about thinking that YOU'RE my god. I told her that I could do worse. But seriously, we could all sit around and read the story of the first Christmas from Vee's parents' Bible, and make a special dinner and maybe bake a cake as well as those cookies. Some punch, too, I think. Want to call a 'family' meeting at dinner tonight and see what we can think of to celebrate? John?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll let Marguerite know. I'm sure she'll have ideas. We need to keep her out of the kitchen, but she can sew decorations or something."

All three smiled at the thought of Marguerite trying to cope with cooking breakfast, let alone Christmas dinner.

"Geese are still migrating," Roxton mused "George; we could shoot a couple of geese for the main course. Or a few of those pheasant-like birds that seem unique to the Plateau. We still have some wine left."

And so, they brought up their idea at dinner that night, and all Treehouse family members thought it was an excellent plan. Marguerite immediately mentioned that she wanted to wear her garnet dress, with the emerald that Zanga Indian Chief Jacoba had given her, for a red and green theme.

Veronica mentioned that some of the forest above them was pine, and that the cones would be good for decoration. They could wrap gifts in red and green cloth, in lieu of proper wrapping paper, and the women in the Zanga village not only could loom the cloth; they had both colors of dye. In fact, they had once made a "Christmas colors" joke about the young queen Sa'eera wearing a red halter top and loincloth and green sarong.

"But, what about gifts? We should have to make what we could, I suppose, and I'm rather clumsy, "admitted Marguerite.

"Nonsense, Darling," countered Roxton. "Other than cooking, you're very clever with your hands, and I'm not just referring to your romantic talents. All the girls say that you sew best, and you're rather creative in general. You just tend to underestimate yourself."

"M. _is _smart," Finn admitted, "But what could I make? I'm the no- talent broad here." And she really looked distraught about it, thought Ned Malone, who was watching her face as she spoke.

"Don't worry, 'little Sis'", spoke Veronica. "I'll help you think of something."

"Don't listen to her, everyone," Challenger admonished. "She can, too, make things. For one, she makes me happy." And he beamed at his love, who blushed deeply and looked embarrassed, but pleased. She leaned her head over and kissed his neck, to applause from the table in general.

"Well, look," said Veronica. "Let's decide on some rules. Who gives who, what? Ned and I will no doubt exchange very personal gifts, and I suppose that the other couples will, too. But what about some items to put under the tree? We can get one of the pines from the upper forests for a tree, of course.

They each looked at one other, thinking. Obviously, each would give their partner something. But, what about the others?

"Well, why not a 'Secret Santa'?" asked the journalist. "That way we won't leave anybody out, other than our partner."

"I don't think I know that one," said Finn.

"Oh, well, you pretty much put everyone's name in a hat, shake it up, and pick a name out of the hat. Obviously it can't be yourself OR your partner since we're already doing that. You can't tell anyone who it is, but once you've picked, you make or buy that person something."

"Oh. I think I get it now. Thanks, Ned." Finn thought that this was actually a clever idea.

"Sure thing.. No problem, Finn."

"Well then, that's settled," said Roxton, the hunter. "I will go get my hat and some paper and a pen. We'll do that right now, while we're thinking about it."

Everyone at the table nodded in agreement. He got up and grabbed a pen from a desk near the dinner table and walked briskly over to get his dark brown Akubra hat.

He wrote down everyone's name, then tore the paper into strips and put them in his hat. After he shook it up, he went around the table and let everyone take a slip. George nodded, Finn smiled, and Marguerite grumbled. Roxton laughed and took his own slip out after he was finished. He smiled at his choice. He had drawn Veronica's name. He was pleased to get hers, because while they were close, he still found selecting a gift for her to be difficult. He wasn't exactly sure what to get or even make for her, but was up for the challenge. And he was quite fond of their jungle hostess, whom he greatly admired, if not in quite the same way as Ned Malone did.

"Is everyone happy with their pick?" asked Roxton.

The group nodded, Marguerite rolling her eyes a little at this silliness. She feigned boredom, but secretly found the togetherness rather fulfilling, if strange.

"Good. Well, I guess that's it, then. Do we have anything for dessert? Didn't you make something earlier today, Veronica?"

"I did, yes," answered the blonde beauty. "I made a chocolate chess pie. One of your favorites."

"Wonderful!"

She got up and asked if there was anyone who wanted a piece other than Roxton. George declined, saying that he wanted to get back to his lab. Finn decided to get a piece later because she wanted to help Challenger. The two of them excused themselves and went to the lab. That left Marguerite Krux and Ned Malone.

"Are the two of you waiting for a piece as well?" asked Veronica.

"Hey, you made it, Veronica. Of course, I'd love a piece," replied Malone. He smiled; glad to see his woman in front of him. He tried not to be obvious about admiring her in her brief jungle attire. Truth was, he'd have found Veronica sexy if dressed in a burlap bag. But why worry about that, if he could see her as she was, clad in a brief suede top and tan loincloth. She was wearing sandals tonight in lieu of her boots, as all three women often did while in the Treehouse. .Ned could see her trim legs almost up to her hips.

"Of course, Veronica. I would love a piece," said Marguerite. She failed to suppress a smile as she realized what drew Malone's attention. Men had such one-track minds!

Veronica headed to the pantry where the pie was located. She got down four plates, a knife, and some forks. She cut everyone a piece, making sure that everyone's slice was equal. As Veronica balanced the four plates on her arms, Roxton teased Marguerite, leaning over to speak softly into her ear.

"What are you two laughing about?" asked Veronica.

"Oh, nothing. It was just a little joke Assai told me when we were last at the Zanga village," replied Roxton. "But it made Marguerite blush, and she's especially lovely when she does that."

"Oh... Gotcha." Veronica was familiar with John's fondness for making his woman blush, often in response to a ribald joke or risqué limerick. Some embarrassed her, too, but they were often quite funny.

She set the plates down in front of the two men and the brunette woman and sat next to Malone. Each praised her for the pie. It had to have been the best they had had in a long time. She blushed, thanking them for their compliments.

Meanwhile, in the lab, Challenger and Finn watched their latest experiment simmering over a Bunsen burner and discussed what had taken place at dinner.

"Finn, Darling, you seem to understand this gifting business better than I do. If there is to be a mystery Father Christmas, er, Santa Claus, how are we to know who is giving who, what?"

"We don't need to, I guess. All we have to do is provide the one gift each for whoever's name we drew. I like it; it's kinda cool. The problem is deciding what to give." The blonde beauty checked her watch, a gold pocket model looted from the possessions of a perished expedition. It was a Patek Philippe, and the others had told her what an excellent, expensive brand it was. It was her first timepiece, and she was nearly as proud of it as she was of her guns and her Carl Zeiss binocular, acquired from the same source. Finn was keeping a keen eye on the time as she monitored the experiment.

"Ah," George said. "And whose name have you drawn?"

"I think that's a secret, isn't it?" Finn cocked an amused eyebrow at her tall lover.

"Well, between us, 'we' know who we're gifting, and each of us is half of 'we', so as long as it's between us, I guess that isn't cheating. I could help you select a gift if I knew who it is for."

Finn looked hurt. "George, are you saying that I can't figure out what to give? I may be a dumb blonde, but I'm not that stupid. I hope," she added, a little doubtfully.

"Finn, rest assured that I am probably going to need your help with this more than you will need mine. And stop saying that you're dumb. You can't possibly be. I have no tolerance for fools, and I'd rather have you with me, doing anything, than anyone else in this world. Especially in a matter like this, where I am out of my element. But women seem so good at these things."

"I think you're probably stereotyping. Well, only maybe. Women ARE better at decorating and holiday planning, I guess."

"I don't know about being better at decorating," he quipped. "They never seem able to grasp why a man would want to mount a Cape buffalo head or a trophy fish in the living room. But, otherwise, I suppose women excel in the home. That's why God created them." He watched her from the corner of his eye, wondering how irate a response this would produce.

Finn saw through his jibe, and refused to react. "That's strange, coming from you, Genius. I thought you felt that my place was mainly in the bedroom?" And she turned to him with an ironic grin that lit her youthful features.

"Um, well, the bedroom is in the home. I meant that as an all-inclusive statement. Speaking of the home, which includes the kitchen, can I impose on you to bake a blackberry pie tomorrow? Two, really. I think the Roxtons will also like that. Those berries on the upper slope should be ripe by now, and I wanted pie tonight. I just can't get enthusiastic about those chess or icebox pies. Chess should be a game between intelligent players, not a pie."

"I'll do it. Let's gather the berries together, though. It'll get us out of the lab and doing something with each other besides work. Look: I'm supposed to get something for John. Who are you gifting?"

"Marguerite. How amusing that we are the ones chosen to give to another couple. I'd have expected it to be more random. I wonder what the odds are on that?"

"Never mind. Don't start calculating that now. We have to think of gifts. Hey: it's been seven minutes. Time to take this experiment off the heat and see how long it takes to solidify." She closed her valuable watch and tucked it safely away before they turned to the hot beaker, tossing gift ideas back and forth.

CHAPTER TWO

After breakfast the following morning, Roxton asked Challenger if he'd join him at the forge in the yard behind the tree. The smoke and the danger of fire, with the weight of the heavy anvil precluded having this facility in the Treehouse. But it had proven most useful in repairing things, even in allowing nails to be made to replace those that had rusted out, from Veronica's parents' time.

After he had the fire at the right level, Roxton removed his shirt, selected a steel bar salvaged from a wrecked airplane, and began pounding it, forging the glowing metal into a blade.

"A knife?" observed Challenger. "Are you giving something to Veronica? She can indeed use a more general purpose blade than that dagger that she carries on her boot."

"Good idea, George. I'll make her one, too. But this is for your lady; I promised her last week. And it isn't her present, although I'll tell you privately that I drew Veronica's name. I'm just making this because Finn needs something more than that little red Swiss pocketknife to survive here if she ever gets separated from the rest of us and has to live off the land. She wants a Bowie style with silver guard and pommel, a six-inch blade, and an ironwood or rosewood handle. Ah, here she comes, with Marguerite".

Challenger nodded greetings as the ladies approached, snickering and looking at each other as if they'd just shared some delicious secret. They had a covered tray with cookies and a pitcher of lemonade.

"What's so funny, girls?" asked Roxton, flexing his muscles as he began swinging the heavy hammer again, pounding the steel, shaping it with mighty blows. He regarded it carefully, and then put it into the fire, holding the blade tang with tongs. When it was the right color, he withdrew it and quenched it in a bucket of oil to his right.

"I caught Marguerite watching you from the balcony," giggled Finn. "I asked what she was doing, and she said, "That's what I want for Christmas, right there."

Roxton looked puzzled. "But, this is for you, Finn. It's that knife that I promised you. Marguerite never even carries one, except for that flick knife that she took from Avery Burton."

Both women started laughing again, and Challenger cleared his throat and explained to Roxton that perhaps it hadn't been what he was making that had appealed to Marguerite so much as the man swinging the hammer.

"This is almost as much fun as watching you chop wood, John," admitted the raven-haired beauty, and she and Finn looked at one another and erupted into more peals of laughter.

"Ahem," interjected Challenger. "If you ladies will get control of yourselves, I'd like to ask how many blackberries Finn and I should gather when we go a-picking today. Who else wants blackberry pie, or just berries in a dish?"

The Roxtons both said how good an idea this was, and Marguerite asked if she could join Finn and George. The latter looked at Roxton in silent query. Perhaps he needed his woman here? But Roxton said that it should keep Marguerite busy, while he got some work done without being ogled, as flattering as that was.

Lemonade and cookies were served and the foursome talked about what to have for Christmas dinner, decorations, and whether to invite any of the Zanga. Finn said that she'd like to ask Sa'eera, if Jacoba permitted. Perhaps Veronica would invite Assai. If they sent Jacoba some useful gift, he might decide that he could spare his daughter and one of his favorite wives for a long Christmas weekend. Roxton offered to forge a strong spear head and fit it with a shaft of the reddish-purple hardwood that only Zanga nobles were allowed for their spears. That should put Jacoba in a good mood: Roxton was a very skilled craftsman in steel, having learned from a Master Smith from Sheffield who'd worked on his estate in Avebury when he was in his teens. He could make knives as fine as any marked with the magic names of such firms as George Wostenholm or Joseph Rodgers. Zanga spears were relatively crude by comparison.

The refreshments finished, the group returned the pitcher and tray to the Treehouse kitchen, armed themselves, took several buckets for berries, and set out for the shaded slopes above, where the fruit grew.

"At least, we shan't have to worry about bears," observed Challenger. "They can be a real menace to berry pickers in North America. Our raptors being purely carnivores, they won't be competing with us for this sort of groceries. Nor will jaguars nor pumas!"

"Thank God for small favors, "quipped Marguerite, but she looked happier than she had in some time, more carefree. She came in from the balcony, lifted her rifle and a bucket, and summoned the elevator.

Veronica sat out on the deck, on a stool, painting a portrait of the landscape in front of her. She always enjoyed painting alone. It made her feel calm and collected.

She held the brush in mid air, looking out into the expanse. She was trying to get the hill and the curve off to the right just the way she wanted it when Malone came walking out onto the deck.

"I see your painting. It looks nice," said Malone, the writer.

"Thank you, Ned," said Veronica.

Malone drew a chair up next to Veronica's and sat down. He propped his feet onto the rail and looked out. He scanned the horizon, looking for any dinosaurs that might be lurking there.

"So, whose name did you pick out of the hat, Veronica?" He looked at her and smiled.

"Why would I tell you? Anyway, it's not you because I'm already getting you something special."

"Oh, is that it, huh? Ok. That's fine."

Veronica started painting again. She finally got the curve right when she put her brush down. She breathed in and exhaled.

She sat there thinking about what she would make for Malone. Maybe I should get something at the Zanga village, thought the young blonde. There was a blanket he was looking at the last time we went. He seemed to like it a lot.

"I can't wait for Christmas to come," said Malone. "Too bad we don't get any snow here, though."

"Yeah," agreed Veronica. "I've always wanted to see what snow looks like."

"It's beautiful. I went to Alaska for a month when I was younger, and I just remember coming out of the lodge and looking out at complete whiteness. Nothing for miles, except the mountains in the distance and the ski slope off to the far right. It was great. Such fun."

"Sounds like it."

"You know, maybe if we ever return to London, you can come along and I'll take you to New York, too. I think you'd like it there."

"I'll bet I would, Ned."

Both smiled at each other.

"Hey, do you want to go on a walk, Veronica? I have been meaning to ask a few questions, anyway."

She thought about it, wondering what the questions were. "Okay," she said. She put away her art supplies, and she and Malone walked hand-in-hand to the elevator.

CHAPTER THREE

A mile of gradual uphill travel brought the three fruit gatherers near the blackberry vines. They were about to round a corner in the trail when they heard guttural growls and semi-words, with shuffling feet ahead of them.

"Ape -men!" hissed Marguerite, "Get off the trail, quickly!" And the humans scrambled for cover in the underbrush and ferns.

Some forty yards ahead, a group of the protohuman primates straggled past: two males, two females, and a child of about four years in human terms. One of the females carried a post neonate clutched to her breast, feeding there. Challenger thought that it must be only a few days old. The others bore woven baskets, probably filled with berries. The males carried heavy flint-headed axes.

Challenger heard Finn take in a quick breath and saw her lift her Mannlicher-Schoenauer carbine. He started to reach out and deflect the muzzle when he realized that she was looking a question at him. He vigorously shook his head: NO!

When the procession had gone some ways down the trail, Finn whispered softly, "George, why wouldn't you let me shoot? There were only a few of those bastards. We could have gotten most with our first volley. We'd have the berries we want, and they'd be dead. We wouldn't have to worry about them attacking us in future. Haven't you ever heard of a preemptive strike, Genius?"

"Nicole," he replied gravely. "I realize that you came from a different time, and that your ability to survive in that dreadful world was dependent on your willingness to seize what opportunities you could to do things like what you almost did. But, today, we had no need to kill wantonly. They didn't know we were here, and the breeze blew to us from them. They couldn't scent us. It would have been virtual murder."

He continued, "One thing that sets us civilized persons apart from such as those whom you saw, or Xingu headhunters, is that we have higher standards and laws that rule us morally, even when no policeman will call our hand if we kill without cause. We came to pick the berries partly for the fun of gathering them in company with one another. We aren't starving. We have not had an incident with the ape people for some time, and killing that family would likely have started new friction with their kin. They really are not too awfully far from being primitive humans.

"We kill, certainly. For food, to protect us from beasts or enemies of our own species. But we do not commit cold murder when it isn't a tactical necessity. I hope you can follow what I'm saying, young lady. Whatever else I hope I am to you, Nicole, I am obligated to provide moral guidance. Do you even see my reasoning? Can you set aside your killer instinct when it isn't required? Please, for the sake of my conscience, if not your own."

The young blonde survivor of unspeakable things in her time and this reflected. "Let me think, Genius. I swear I will. Let's get on with the berry picking."

She was obviously deep in thought and looked troubled. Challenger decided that he'd said enough for then. He loved this woman, and more said now might pull them apart more readily than a Tyrannosaur could manage. He nodded abruptly, and rose, Marguerite beside him.

Finn glanced at the other woman, who avoided her gaze and led the way back onto the trail.

They reached the berries, and Challenger and Finn set their rifles aside and began picking in uncomfortable silence. Marguerite sat on a stump nearby, rifle across her knees, wondering how this would end. She had avoided comment, partly because she loved both of these dear friends, and partly because she could see the views of both. It occurred to her that she and Finn were much alike in some ways, and it might well have been her that Challenger admonished, had he looked to his right instead of left, to his love. Marguerite had already pushed the safety lever of her sporting Lee-Enfield forward to the "Fire" position...

"George, may I say something?" she asked now.

"Eh? Of course, Marguerite. Always. You are a member of this surrogate family. What's on your mind?" He looked genuinely curious, probably glad that the silence had been broken.

"I have a confession to make. It wasn't only Finn who needed to hear what you said about the ape men. My rifle was also raised. But I've thought about what you said. Nicole must decide for herself what to think. But I believe that you said the right thing, at least on this occasion. I am actually embarrassed at what I almost did, with no urgent cause. I think I've grown some today, and I thank you for the lecture. But please be kind in evaluating what Nicole and I almost did. We have had to exist in different circumstances than you, and I, for one, am still learning to be civilized, I'm afraid. You brought me a step closer today. Thank you. I hope we don't live to regret your mercy, but I think I'll like myself a little better now when I next see my image in the mirror. I guess I needed to hear what you said." She shrugged self consciously.

Challenger nodded, saying nothing. Then, Finn set down her bucket and walked over to Marguerite. That woman sensed what was coming, and set her .303 against a tree and moved to embrace Finn, who hugged her intensely, tears creeping down her face.

After a moment, Finn turned to George and said, "Lover, I'm sorry. You're right. Marguerite and I both learned something today, thanks to you. I'm glad that I didn't shoot, not just for the reasons that you gave. But it would also hurt me deep inside if I'd disappointed you. I'm sorry that I was a smart mouth. I guess you still have some work to do to bring me fully into the fold of evolved humanity. I'm just very lucky to have a man like you to help me grow a conscience. I love you so much that I think I'd die if I let you down or ever lost you. Forgive me?" She looked anxiously for his approval.

Challenger cleared his throat and Finn thought she saw a suppressed tear in his right eye. He reached out to her, and she fled into his embrace, grasping him tightly as he calmed her, asking her pardon if he'd been too emphatic in making his point. Marguerite gave them a moment, then walked over and put her arms around both, kissing Finn on the cheek.

When they separated, Marguerite handed Challenger his .450 Holland & Holland and said that he might as well sit and guard them while she and Finn got the berries picked, or people back at the Treehouse would be disappointed in their expectations of pie that night. Challenger smiled and sat on the stump, thinking how lucky he was to know these women. Often, he learned as much from them as he imparted.

In 30 minutes, Marguerite resumed her seat, rifle at hand, and watched the Challengers finish filling the last bucket, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, murmuring quiet endearments and a joke between them. Harmony was again in her world, and she felt very happy that she had come on this expedition. Besides all else, she just plain loved blackberries...

When the final bucket was full, the trio trekked toward the Treehouse, talking quietly, Marguerite pulling Finn aside when they passed near a low limb with a boa constrictor sunning on it, waiting for an unfortunate rat or agouti to venture near.

At the Treehouse, she announced to Roxton and the Malones, "We're home." And realized that it felt more like it than ever before. Home. With family. She realized that she was grinning widely and Roxton asked what was funny.

"Oh," she said. "This was such a wonderful day, John! You were all that I missed." And she leaned up and kissed his lips, bringing a smile to his countenance as well.

CHAPTER FOUR

Plans had gone well in the two weeks since Challenger had suggested the idea of a Christmas celebration, and all had gathered at the Treehouse in the best of spirits on the evening of Dec. 24. Jacoba had even consented to allow Assai and Sa'eera to join the festivities, being utterly delighted with the spear that Roxton had crafted for him.

First on the agenda was a festive feast, although Veronica grimaced when Malone used that term to describe it.

"Come on, Ned," she urged, "you can do better than that sort of alliterative phrasing; you're probably the hottest journalist on the Plateau." But she tempered her words with a broad smile.

All gathered around the table, Ned being last to arrive, having lingered to gawk at the presents beneath the pine tree with an assortment of holiday decorations dangling from its branches. He was still young enough at heart to speculate on who had given who what, and his guessing had earned him the good-natured razzing of the others. He took his place now next to Veronica, having helped her carry in dishes of vegetables from the kitchen.

Challenger, Finn, and Roxton had harvested a goose and several of the pheasant-like birds that Challenger was sure were related to the true _Phasianus colchicus_ and similar forms so beloved of sportsmen in Britain, North America and India. He wondered how it had come to be on the plateau, without benefit of the deliberate transplanting that had spread its range in other areas, and had noted other forms, too, one resembling Lady Amherst's pheasant. "Just another mystery of the Plateau," he had shrugged when asked. "The point is, they taste wonderful wherever one finds them."

Vegetables included their usual variety, Malone having specfically asked for green beans and sweet potatoes, which he said were traditional at holiday meals in his homeland. Finn had quipped that she couldn't guarantee what Santa would bring him, but that menu was a request that their garden could fulfill. (She and Vee were really quite proud of the garden, with cause.)

Roxton opened two bottles of their dwindling stock of red Bordeaux wine, a Chateau Margaux for Marguerite and the other ladies who might prefer a relatively lighter flavor, especially with fowl, and a Chateau Latour.

He and Challenger poured, water glasses having already been filled. Marguerite held up her Baccarat crystal glass to the candle in front of her and delighted at the sight of the flame flickering through the wine.

She wore a deep crimson dress, off-the-shoulder, and the glittering emerald presented to her earlier that year by Jacoba, and ruby earrings. She had fastened a sprig of a holly-like plant in her hair, as had all the ladies, and the Zanga girls had each added a tropical floral lei to their own necks. Their sarongs were ankle length, deep blue for Assai, and golden for Sa'eera.

Marguerite noted that Finn, Veronica, and she had all chosen knee length gowns, and was relieved that the blondes hadn't opted for the short skirts they usually favored. It wasn't that her legs couldn't stand comparison with the best, but the longer skirts seemed to suit the occasion better, and all the ladies had sensed that. (New Years' Eve would probably be another matter, she reflected wryly!) The men were dressed in casual jackets, save Malone, who had opted for a gray sweater. She knew that Roxton had been relieved to avoid a tux and tie, and the others had also voted for an informal atmosphere.

Dinner went wonderfully well, the only mishap being that Ned Malone bit down on a lead shot pellet in a bite of goose, but apart from startling him and producng a mild epithet, no damage was done.

When everyone had more or less finished, coffee was served by Veronica and Assai, along with cake and dishes of fresh fruit. Two of the company regretted that apples were unavailable, not growing well in any Plateau soil they had thus far found. Otherwise, all agreed that the meal was a full success, and offered thanks to Veronica and Ned, who had done most of the cooking with some assistance from Finn.

Finally, just as people were saying that it was time to move to the living room and investigate the presents beneath the tree, Roxton asked for quiet, and said that there was something that he and Marguerite wished to announce.

He stood and cleared his throat, poured a bit more Chateau Latour into his glass, and commented, "Some of you may remember that Marguerite and I got off to somewhat of a rocky start," (he paused until the laughter died) "but we have grown to appreciate one another more fully with the months that have passed on this Plateau, and I have asked her to marry me."

"That's true", agreed George Challenger. "At least twelve times, within my own hearing." More laughter. Finn playfully slapped his hand and told him to hush, but she was grinning, too.

"Lord Roxton, you are a fine man and should not have to endure such rejection," teased Sa'eera. "I have an unmarried step-sister who looks long at you when you visit our village. She is very comely, and I will be happy to introduce you," This time, even Finn laughed.

"Well, Sa'eera," said Marguerite, "your step-sister and any other girls you know who may be looking for a husband will just have to swallow their sorrow and disappointment, for this time, I have said 'yes'. As of the evening of Dec. 24, 1922, Lord John Richard Roxton, V.C., D.S.O., O.B.E., M.C., etc, Earl of Avebury, and Miss Marguerite Anne Krux wish to announce their engagement!" And she held up a hand from the ring finger of which a brilliant diamond sparkled in the candlelight.

There was a startled silence, then, as one, the whites stood and began a sustained spontaneous applause. As soon as they grasped what was happening, the two Zanga Indian royals joined the others in clapping, cheering, and wishing the now officially betrothed couple a wonderful engagement, long life, and as many children as they might desire.

When the tumult died, Challenger passed the bottles again, and the group drank to the engagement. A second toast followed, proposed this time by Roxton.

"God save this company; God save the King!" And everyone drank, although Veronica hid a smile as she noticed the grimace on Ned's face.

"Next time, I think I'll offer a toast to George Washington," Malone stated. "In fact, if we have enough wine left..." and so, they drank also to the man who had been first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.

"Now," said Challenger, "I know that Ned has been waiting patiently to see what everyone is getting for Christmas. I propose that we go sit by the tree and exchange gifts." And there being absolutely no dissent whatever, they adjourned to the living room.

"Before we open the gifts from, er, Santa Claus, I wonder if I may ask your indulgence to show you what Finn has given me as her personal gift," Challenger said. Finn colored, not realizing that he had planned to do this.

Challenger produced a wooden box, from which he removed a gift in its dark green wrapping cloth. He carefully removed the gift and all gathered around beneath the electric ceiling light to see. What he held was a carefully detailed ceramic replica of a human heart, with the incised words, "To George from Nicole, Christmas, 1922. My Heart and My Love."

Everyone cheered, and Finn explained that she had studied the diagram of a heart in a book from the lab, modeling this one after it. "Veronica helped me make it, and we glazed and fired it in her new kiln. Careful, there, Genius; don't drop that. It's fragile, like the real thing: don't break my heart!" And all laughed and congratulated her on her clever idea and George for being the man who made her real heart beat faster.

The couple kissed, and George carefully stowed the gift back in its box, which he set aside safely on a nearby table. His gaze lingered on it, thrilling Finn as she realized how much he liked it. He carressed it lightly with his fingers before putting the lid on the box.

"I trust that George gave you something in return," jibed Malone. "Probably a lab assignment, right?"

"Oh, he did better than that, although working in the lab with one of history's greatest scientists is a daily gift," she retorted. And she pulled her long pageboy haircut back, exposing a set of diamond earrings in gold mounts. Everyone expressed approval of this gift, too, and the women came over, gasped, and admired the beautiful jewelry, telling Finn how lovely she looked with them on. Veronica, who had made them, looked pleased with the way they'd turned out.

The group then drifted over to the chairs gathered around the tree.

"Well," said Veronica, "Who wants to open the first gift from Secret Santa?"

Everyone lunged for their gift after an awkward pause. Being courteous did have it's downfalls in situations like these. Once everyone got their presents, each looked at everyone and then down at their presents. "So, who wants to go first?" asked Malone.

"Good question, lad," replied the scientist. He looked wryly at Malone and then looked around. "Inquiring minds want to know."

They smiled and laughed.

"How about Veronica," suggested Roxton. "Open it, come on."

"Really? Are you sure?" asked the blonde beauty.

"Of course, go ahead."

The gift she was holding was larger than the others. It was about a foot in width and about a foot and a half in height. She noticed that it wasn't all that strong, which she was surprised about. She wasn't very careful pulling her present out from under the tree when everyone ran to get theirs. Her present looked practically unscathed. However, she was just glad that she could open it. Her present was wrapped in a beautiful red wrapping, which she noted was a stash from her fathers expedition. Again, she was surprised that it had survived this long. She would have thought it would have been dry and crinkly. But that didn't bother her.

"Come on Veronica, don't take all day," said Finn. "We're all anxious to see what you got."

"All right, all right," Veronica retorted, smiling broadly. "I assume you got this for me, Finn?"

"Oh no, I didn't. I got someone else."

"Oh."

Veronica looked at the present one last time before opening it. She tore it open only to find a painting. A painting of both of her parents! The painting was of their heads, her mother above, looking over the shoulder, while her father was at the bottom, looking straight ahead. Veronica started to tear up. She couldn't believe it. "Who made this for me?" she asked.

"I did," replied Roxton.

"You did?"

"Yes. I did. I know it isn't as lovely as it should be, and it certainly doesn't do them any justice, but I thought this would mean more to you than something at the Zanga mall."

"No, it's perfect. I love it."

She got up from her seat and ran over to Roxton. They hugged for several seconds, with Veronica's head buried in Roxton's shoulder.

"I hope you liked it. I worried so much that I wouldn't be able to get their likeness. I looked for all the pictures that I could find of them to make it as perfect as possible. I don't think I did all that much resemblance -wise, but still." He laughed, along with the rest of the group. He kissed Veronica on the cheek and said Merry Christmas.

"You know, Vee, your mother looks a lot like you," said Finn.

"Really? I don't have many photographs of her," said Veronica.

"You do."

"Thank you, Finn."

"Come on everyone, lets see what else there is. I want to know what everyone else got," stated Malone.

Veronica went back over to her seat, looking at her portrait. She talked with Assai about the picture, while everyone else was deciding who should open what, when. "Let's ask our honored guests to open their presents next," suggested Roxton. "Really, perhaps they should have gone first. Queen Sa'eera?" And he passed her the gift marked only with her name.

The young blonde beauty accepted with a blush and untied the green and gold cord securing the gold cloth wrap. Within was a box about four inches square. She lifted the lid, finding a necklace.

She held it up, admiring the coiled gold links, with a gold rim securing a silver British coin about 1.5 inches in diameter, in uncirculated condition. The image on the obverse was that of George V., the present Monarch.

"This is so lovely," she exclaimed. Lifting her hair, she had Assai hang the necklace on her and turned it in her exquisite hands, clearly much taken with the new adornment.

"Check the box again; I think there may be more in there," said Veronica.

Indeed there was: wrapped in tissue paper to prevent them being scratched, were earrings, made of small gold coins, carefully drilled for the attachment of thin iron wire for attaching them to her ear lobes. Sa'eera was radiant, and asked Finn to help her apply them. Fortunately, her ears were already pierced, as the Treehouse women knew.

"To whom do we owe profound thanks for this marvelous present?" she wanted to know. "We understand that 'Santa' is really a mythical figure, mainly for your culture's small children?" She clearly felt "on stage", and used the regal "we", which she seldom did.

All agreed, but it was Veronica who told her that she and Marguerite had designed and made the jewelry, and Roxton who had forged and twisted the iron wire for the earring loops.

Sa'eera expressed her pleasure to each of them, saying that her whole family would be impressed with the fine work. "But," said the queen, "it is most of all the thought that you cared to give this that impresses us most favorably. We were honored, as was Assai, to be asked to your home for this sacred occasion." Though barely turned 18, she was clearly trying to appear the royal she was, and to represent her husband well.

"Now," she said, 'Husband commanded us to present to you a small token of his gratitude for the fine spear that Lord Roxton gave to him. Will one among you please open the big box with the golden covering? That gift is from King Jacoba and all his wives, but the idea was mine. May it please you, in the name of my husband and our whole people."

And Challenger lifted the box, which he set on the coffee table in front of them. He opened his pocketknife, cut the intricate leather ties, and asked Finn to lift the lid. She did, handing it to him to set aside, and they all leaned closer to see what the native monarch and his women had seen fit to give them on this occasion celebrating a holiday that was not of their faith or their comprehension.

Challenger lifted out three wrapped bundles of what seemed to be soft clothing, and a heavier object, probably stone, judging from the weight.

Roxton set the strong box aside, and Finn passed two packets of the soft goods to Veronica and to Marguerite, for each packet had that woman's name on it, tied to the bundle with gold string. The names were hand printed in a dark native ink, probably by Sa'eera, who Finn had been coaching in basic English writing. She might well be the sole Zanga to know how to spell her friends' names...

Assai then called their attention to a long box that Roxton opened, passing out cloth covered bundles, each labeled with a Treehouse man's name. He offered two to the other men, keeping the one inscribed to him.

"Well," he said, "shall we open? Ladies first? Marguerite?"

"Let Veronica go first," exclaimed Marguerite. "This is really her home, and she should have precedence. Without her, we all would have perished here, I'm sure."

"Vee" looked surprised, thanked Marguerite, and opened her bundle. She shook out the clothing, which was a halter top in jaguar hide, beautifully tanned and soft, with leather string fastenings. A matching loincloth was next, followed by a black sarong, with her name woven discreetly in gold thread at the top left, as the garment would be worn.

Veronica knew how much effort it must have taken to make this attire from scratch, and that jaguar fur was normally reserved for wear by senior warriors or by members of the royal harem, and generally then only on special occasions. She gushed her thanks, knowing that her eyes were filled with tears of gratitude.

Seeking to deflect attention from herself, she urged Finn to open her package. This turned out to be a deep green halter top, much the color of the dress that she wore tonight, but with gold straps that could be positioned according to whether she wanted two shoulder straps or a single neck strap, the latter fitting between the cups of the bra equivalent. The matching loincloth was also trimmed in gold, and her sarong was made of alternating panels of green and gold.

Finn nearly cried, so grateful to have been remembered and realizing the considerable hand work this outfit represented in a society that lacked sewing machines. She held up each garment to herself, blushing as she turned to George and told him that she would model this later so that he could tell her if she was as lovely in it as the outfit merited. He blushed, himself, a little shocked at the thought of a white woman in such brief attire, but excited more than he wanted to admit at the thought of seeing the enchantress he knew Finn to be wearing it for his approval.

Marguerite was by now fairly sure what to expect, and she was right: the same ensemble, hers in all black with silver cords for the halter and the three-stranded string belt to the sarong.

She colored only slightly, knowing that this limited-coverage clothing was seen differently by the Zanga than it would be by a vicar at home in England. Indeed, the youngest queen and the princess of that tribe sat here with her, dressed in basically the same style, tonight. And she had to admit that she couldn't really blame Roxton for letting his eyes wander to them when he thought it was discreet, especially to the blonde Sa'eera, who walked like a dancer. She was half white, the daughter of one of the late Layton Expedition members. Her blonde hair was the result of a rinse devised by Challenger, but her pigmentation was natural, her mother having been a light-colored Zanga princess. She looked just like a white girl who had spent some time at the beach and gotten a mild tan. Her hair was styled much like Veronica's. (Assai, the chief's daughter, looked more Polynesian, or perhaps like a Spaniard.)

Marguerite thanked the Zanga girls and said that she would wear this on Monday if her Treehouse companions would also wear their new attire, perhaps for an afternoon party and dance performance. She looked directly at Finn and Veronica, challenging them to demur. Under this pressure, they stammered that they would be happy to both host the reception and to wear the new garments. Malone started coughing. Roxton opened his mouth, looked at Marguerite's face, and shut his mouth. Challenger raised his eyebrows, then recovered and looked to Finn, saying that he would love to see her in that outfit, and that he was sure that she would more than do it justice. He remembered her reaction to his comment earlier that year when he had questioned her decision to wear a revealing slip dress when they had received visitors. In the end, he had admitted that she had looked wonderful in it, and that perhaps in this jungle, London dress standards need not apply.

Marguerite savored the moment, for she had been waiting for months for a chance to embarrass Finn and Vee for having primed Sa'eera to call her, "ma'am" and refer to her, at 32, as an "older woman". Later tonight, she would take the blonde girls aside and remind them of that prank...

"You're certainly smiling, Marguerite," said Ned Malone. "It's good to see you so happy."

"Well," she said, "This is _such _a lovely outfit, and I trust that Lord Roxton will agree that I look good in black. Your Majesty, Your Highness," -she looked in turn at Sa'eera and at Assai- "thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know how much work this took to make, especially the belt with all the silver wire."

Sa'eera beamed. "All of us wives chipped in and made the outfits, and Assai helped, too. We are glad that you find the garments appealing. And, now, let your men see what Husband chose for their gifts."

Roxton glanced around, saw Challenger and Malone gesturing for him to begin, and then unwrapped his package. It was a long bow with a finely ornamented quiver of ten arrows, the tanned leather of the quiver bearing intricate beadwork in a symbol that he recognized as a good -luck-in-hunting glyph. He saw a second glyph that he knew to be that of the Maya god, Etz'nab, master of edged tools and weapons. Apparently, the Zanga used it for the same purpose, and acknowledged his skill at the forge.

The other men had similar bows, arrows, and quivers, with each having different glyphs pertaining to the hunting theme. All represented the finest work of the Zanga craftsmen who specialized in such items. In each instance, one arrow of the ten had a silver head instead of the iron used in the other nine.

All showed their gifts around, discussed them, and thanked the Zanga women.

"And, now, George Challenger, will you please open the leather bag? This is a communal gift for all of you who dwell here in the Treehouse." This was Sa'eera again.

Challenger set the heavy bag on the table and drew forth a jade head on a pedestal, about eighteen inches tall, some eight inches square at the base, only slightly tapering as it rose to the pinnacle. It was carved with deeply incised symbols and glyphs that reminded him strongly of Maya motifs. He was more convinced than ever that the Zanga had had some contact with that Mexican people, although they lacked the sloping foreheads of the Maya and in fact often looked more Polynesian than Mayan.

"This is astoundingly complex and most impressive," he noted. "Gather round, everyone. Just _look_ at the work that this must represent, by the best stone carvers of their time. Does it have a particular meaning, Assai?"

"Yes," said the Zanga girl. She looked at Sa'eera and both smiled shyly. "This object is a good luck talisman, which will ward off evil from the Treehouse. It will protect you from snakes that may climb beyond your electric fence, or pterodactyls that might otherwise swoop down on you on the veranda. And it has a second purpose. See the next line of characters from the top? Those will grant fertility to your women, for Father has noted that none of you has brought forth children yet."

There was much clearing of throats and awkward glancing around from the Treehouse crew at this, then Challenger thanked the Zanga women for this comforting and protective structure.

"You must place it so that light from the rising sun will strike it as soon as it enters the Treehouse," explained Sa'eera. "Otherwise, it may not be effective."

"Oh, I'm positive that we will take care to ensure that it is effective," drolled Marguerite, trying to keep a straight face.

All thanked the Zanga, and Veronica asked who wanted to open the next gift. Marguerite ran her hands over the statuette, noting the exquisite workmanship and creative design, knowing that this item would be worth a shocking sum of money to a major museum or to a collector of primitive art...then, to her surprise, she realized that it was worth more to her here, where her surrogate family could enjoy it and cherish the goodwill represented by it. "I may be growing a conscience and a sense of family, after all," she mused mentally. And she decided that this was really a rather nice feeling.

"Malone, here's my gift to you," said Marguerite. "You might as well be next, I suppose."

"Oh, thank you Marguerite," Malone said. He eyed her warily, wondering what she wanted. He knew that tone of voice.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, Malone. I know how antsy you are about opening your presents, so I just assumed you would want to go next. That's all. Don't fall out of your knickers."

He smiled, grateful that she noticed. He couldn't help but suppress a little giggle. He enjoyed these moments with Marguerite.

"I wonder what it is," thought Malone. "I'm sure it is a lovely gift, Marguerite. I look forward to it."

"You had better like it. It took me a long time to make."

"I'll bet."

Malone tore the package open, only to find seven quill pens, made from the brilliant feathers of exotic jungle birds, and some paper. He hadn't seen any new paper in so long that it took him by surprise. "It's new paper," marveled the writer.

"And new quills," stated Marguerite. "You don't know how many times I cut myself when I was trying to sharpen those damn things."

"So that's how you cut yourself," noted Challenger. "You know, I was wondering about that."

"Yes well, now you know, George." Marguerite smiled and turned to Malone. "I do hope you like it. I didn't provide any ink, only because you seem to have enough already. And anyway, we can always get George to make more. He and Finny use ink in the lab, anyway."

"Thank you, Marguerite. You really shouldn't have." Ned eyed the beautiful quill pens with unbridled delight.

All smiled again and marveled at the job that Marguerite did. The paper was made from a new contraption Challenger built for the tree house several weeks earlier. Challenger had noted that they were starting to run out of paper, so he started work on a new device to make it for the Treehouse. It resembled refined papyrus paper, such as was used in ancient Egypt.

"Oh, yes, well, that new contrapa-whatever it's called- Challenger built, really came in handy when I made the paper. I suppose it's a good thing he showed me how to do it."

"Hmm, yes, I seem to remember how THAT went," Challenger. joked

"Come on now," said Roxton. "Let's see here, who should go next?"

Again, everybody looked around to see who hadn't opened a present from one of the fellow roommates.

In the confusion of receiving the arms and the clothing, with the priceless jade statue, Assai had been forgotten. Veronica realized this now, being a longtime friend of the Zanga princess. She apologized, and passed her a gift similar to the box that contained Sa'eera's jewelry.

Assai smiled graciously, saying that she had herself forgotten that she hadn't opened anything. She slipped the ribbon off, and revealed a thin band of gold, a crown, with a rampant serpent that she didn't recognize. She looked questioningly at the group, and Marguerite told her that this snake with the expanded hood was a cobra, and that this was called a uraeus crown, and was worn thousands of years ago by Egyptian royals. She explained a bit about ancient Egypt, telling her that she would be told more later, if she wished.

"At the time the crown that I copied for this was made, Egypt was the mightiest nation on Earth," Marguerite pointed out, "and that crown was the informal sort worn by queens, such as Hatshepsut. I made it as a replica several years ago, and it was the finest thing I had to give to one who has helped us SO much to become and remain friends with her own people. Assai, we are very grateful to you. The crown, by the way, is real gold, and I hand-detailed the scales and scutes in the cobra. The eyes are genuine onyx."

Assai found the uraeus crown a perfect fit, if worn down just a bit further down on the head than Marguerite thought was precisely ideal, but the difference was small.

There was a matching armband in the box, in the shape of a slithering cobra with the hood retracted, the body and tail forming the circle that enabled it to be worn on her bicep. This, too, elicited ooh's and ahhh's from all present.

"Thank you, Marguerite, and each of you. This is lovely beyond belief. Yes, I do wish to know more of this Egypt later." She took off the crown, turning it in her hands, noting the knurled edge detail. This was, frankly, an exquisite work of art, and Assai realized that it had been a labor of love, also. Marguerite conveniently avoided mentioning that it was an intentional fake, which she had intended to pass off as original to a collector at one time...

Someone handed Finn her Secret Santa package. She tore into it with the glee of a girl who had seen too few Christmas celebrations, and then, usually with modest presents. She found a set of quarrels for her crossbow, made to the length and weight of her hollow metal ones, but made of dense tropical hardwood, carefully rounded along their length, and balanced to fly true. The fluted iron bodkin points had recesses to receive the poison paste used by the Zanga in war and hunting, if desired. With that poison, her small bow could kill a deer or peccary, easily. The meat would be tainted only around the initial wound. The rest was perfectly edible.

Malone admitted that he had enlisted Challenger's and Roxton's aid in turning these on an improvised lathe in the lab when she had been away one afternoon. She walked over to Ned and kissed him, telling him that it was a wonderful gift, for, although she normally now relied on firearms, she was quite sentimental about her crossbow and sometimes still took small game with it.

When all had opened their gifts, Challenger suggested that they circle chairs for a brief reading of scripture, the tale of the very first Christmas.

Sitting at a table with a bright white candle, Challenger began to read: " And it came to pass in those days, that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. ...and all went to be taxed, everyone into his own city"... He read that Mary and Joseph had gone to Bethlehem, with her being "great with child," and..."she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him with swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."

He passed Veronica's parents' Bible to Finn, who continued, "And there were in the same country shepherds...keeping watch over their flocks by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid."

"Gosh," said Finn. "That's pretty sobering. To be so afraid that you get sore… I've been there a time or three. I know the feeling." She looked subdued and thoughtful.

Passing the Bible to Veronica, she listened intently as her best friend read, "Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord...And immediately, there was with the angel, a heavenly host, praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, good will toward men."

They read also of the visit of the three wise men, and other portions, then, the Bible being returned to Prof. Challenger, he said, "And this is the story of the first Christmas, from the gospel of St. Luke, an apostle of our Redeemer, whose birthday we celebrate each year at this time. May Our Lord bless all present, and receive our spirits unto him in Heaven, when our time on this Earth is done. And thus concludes our reading of the Holy Scripture. Veronica, please put this Bible somewhere safe. I know how much it must mean to you."

They talked quietly among themselves for awhile; answering questions from the two Zanga women, and then, Veronica asked whether anyone would like fruit punch and cookies.

Not surprisingly, everyone would, so she, Sa'eera, and Finn trooped off to the kitchen for the punch bowl and trays of cookies, some containing native cashew and Brazil nuts. Marguerite watched them, reflecting on how pretty Veronica's red dress looked with Finn's green, and how Sa'eera's gold top and sarong added just the right touch to these traditional Christmas colors.

"I've got it bad," she told Roxton, "I'm actually sitting here with people whom I trust, being glad for once that it's Christmas."

Veronica made sure that the cookies on the tray were put on perfectly. She wanted to make sure that this Christmas, like all the others, was a special one. This was her third Christmas that she could celebrate with people she loved and not be alone. She wanted to hold on to this for as long as possible. Veronica didn't want to lose it again.

"OK, ladies, let's go," said Veronica.

Veronica led first with the tray of cookies and tray of cups, while Sa'eera and Assai came in with two punch bowls. One held a white rum punch, while the other was non-alcoholic. The former was from an old recipe that Veronica had found while going through some recipes of her mother's one rainy day.

"Here we go, everyone," stated Veronica. "Just to let everyone know, the bowl that Sa'eera is putting down on the table has some alcohol in it, so if you're not in the mood for that, you can have the one that Assai is putting down."

Out of courtesy, everyone at the table had some of each beverage. At this point, it seemed they were getting tired of the wines, but they didn't want to disappoint Veronica since she worked so hard. Some decided to have another cup of the "special" punch, noting that it really wasn't all that bad.

"How did you make this one, Veronica?" asked Marguerite, pointing to the punch Sa'eera had put down. "It is really very good."

"Oh, I found it while I was sorting through my mother's recipes. I thought it would be a nice compliment to the dessert. I like having something a little different than normal," replied Veronica.

Each of them nodded, pleased to know how she had learned the recipe.

"This has been a lovely time," commented Assai. "I hope everyone liked their presents Sa'eera and I brought."

The group nodded in agreement. The ladies knew that they would have to do a fashion show for the men one of these days. Though they somewhat dreaded that, knowing what the fellows would probably say, as they strutted their stuff. Still, if the comments were racy, they were also likely to be flattering. Marguerite decided to lead the other girls in Middle Eastern dance in the new outfits. They would be superb for that, and they had Arabic music records for the Victrola gramophone.

The tray for the cookies was clean after 30 minutes. So Veronica decided to pick it up and take it to the kitchen to clean while the others talked or sat in silence listening to the others talk.

Malone followed her inside the kitchen to talk. He hadn't been able to do so all night and had been eager to do so.

"_Bonjour, Madame_," said Malone in a perfect French accent.

_"Bonjour_," replied Veronica. She had learned limited French from her parents, although she had almost no Portuguese, despite having been born in Brazil. The Plateau was then so remote that she seldom heard the language. Her parents had meant to teach her in a year or so, but Fate had intervened. (Finn knew the language because the Plateau was long settled by mainstream Brazilians by her time, in the year 2033. She had learned Portuguese along with English.)

She stood at the sink, washing the tray and several other dishes. Malone stood beside her with a towel to dry them off. He looked over at her and smiled.

"I love ya. Did you know that, "V"?"

Veronica smiled when he said her nickname. She knew how much he hated that nickname that Finn had so affectionately started calling her.

"I love ya too kid."

"Hey!"

Malone splashed some water onto Veronica and started laughing some more. She splashed him, only harder this time. He gasped and took a step back, smiling.

He took the towel he had in hand and tried to wipe himself as dry as he could make it.

"You know I don't like that nickname," said Malone.

"It was just a joke," laughed Veronica.

"I know."

"Hope you're not that wet, Ned."

"Oh no, it's fine, really. I'll change soon."

Veronica got another towel and started to help dry him down. They looked at each other while doing this and kissed.

How I love this woman, thought Malone. Thank God for her. I wouldn't be a better man if I hadn't met her. Or, at least, not as good...

"What?" asked Veronica. "What are you thinking?"

"I was just thinking of how much I love you and how much better a man I am because of you."

"That's so sweet, Ned!"

He rolled his eyes and smiled again. Although he wouldn't fully admit it, he loved the little moments like these. He'd always cherish them, no matter what.

They went back to the sink and finished the dishes they had started. Once they were done, they put them up and walked back out to the group.

"Where have you two been?" asked Roxton. "We were getting worried."

"Oh, we were just washing the dishes; that's all. Veronica wanted to start on them before they started to pile up," replied Malone.

"Why are you so wet?" asked George.

"Oh, Veronica decided to splash me with water."

"Well, you did the same," retorted Veronica.

Malone mocked her, while they all laughed. When he wanted to, Malone could actually be funny. He certainly had his moments, that was for sure.

The two love birds sat down next to each other and listened to the different conversations while they held hands.

Challenger shrugged this kitchen incident off, quipping that he'd always known that Ned was "all wet". This produced responses from chuckles to rolled eyes. Finn dug him in the ribs with an elbow, but she smiled at his jibe.

"What about singing some carols?" inquired Veornica. "If I sing, it will take my mind off of this wet dress." She was embarrased at how the fabric clung to her, and was glad that she had worn a bra.

They decided on, "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" to start, and Roxton led off, his voice being surprisingly good for this sort of thing. Marguerite had the best female voice, and she reflected that this was ironic, for she had learned to sing in the very place that Christmas seemed so elusive a concept, the private school that gave so little of that time of year to her, otherwise.

Veronica chose, "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing!", and they did most of the favorites, including, "O, Come All Ye Faithful", and, although they were Protestant, "Ave Maria."

The songs were alien to Sa'eera and Assai, but they soon caught the rhythms, and hummed along as best they could.

CHAPTER FIVE

Eventually, everyone broke up into separate groups, mostly couples, and drifted off to their rooms. Finn helped Veronica and Assai to clean up, and Sa'eera stayed to talk to Finn, with whom she was forming an ever deeper friendship. Indeed, she had somewhat of a heroine worship complex, rather like Finn herself had once had with Veronica, and still did, to a lesser degree. Shared adventures had more than proven Finn's mettle, and Veronica and she now felt more like peers, although their bond was even stronger with mutual knowledge of one another.

Sa'eera took Finn aside and asked whether they might sneak off together tomorrow and practice with the sling and with Finn's crossbow. Zanga women were not encouraged to learn the art of arms, and they had to do this sub-rosa, which made the instruction all the more exciting. They agreed to look for an opportunity, Finn saying that she'd ask Vee to involve Assai in something while the other two girls went to look for berries or some such pretext to get them beyond the eyes of others. They smiled at this secret, anticipating forbidden pleasures.

Challenger finished an experiment in the lab and came up to share a final cup of punch with the girls and Ned. The latter was trying to corner Veronica under a sprig of mistletoe, and she kept evading, pretending not to know his intent. Finally, she rounded on him, embraced him and kissed for effect.

"Is this what you've been trying to arrange, Ned?" she laughed as she nibbled at his astonished lips. Her tongue flickered over his, and Ned felt his trousers tighten in front as his arousal became apparent. He hoped that it didn't show, but Veronica rotated her hips against it, looking back with a wicked gleam in her eyes. She knew very well the effect that she was having on him.

Challenger and Finn walked out onto the veranda and stood quietly watching the night sky. He commented that it had changed little since the host of angels had appeared unto the shepherds outside Bethlehem, and they reflected on eternity. Suddenly, a star that had been barely noticeable appeared to bloom, brightening far beyond its normal incandescence.

"Look," pointed Finn. "Is that a nova, or have I had too much Christmas punch?"

George went in for his Zeiss 10X50mm binocular and they shared it, watching this stunning sight. Finn called to her friends, and the other girls walked out and gazed up in awe.

"I wonder if a nova is what guided the three wise men?" asked Finn.

"Perhaps. Perhaps a comet. I favor the latter, really," answered Challenger. "But this nova can be our Christmas star. How wonderful! "

They went upstairs, leaving Veronica and the Zanga girls talking about the wonderful evening and plans for the morrow.

In their room, George turned on the electric light of which he was so proud, and set out Finn's gift on a table in the corner nearest the door.

"Aren't you putting that in the lab?", she asked, mildly surprised.

"No, Darling. I want it in our room, where we share our life even more intimately than in the lab. Here is where I most enter your heart, and you, mine. For too many years, my heart was indeed mainly in the lab, and I will always relish what we do there. But now, a wiser man, I cherish even more than I do science, the woman whom I love. I have learned a great deal in this world, Nicole, but what I have learned most in the year since I met you, is that work is not enough to fill my own heart. You do that, to a degree that I have never before experienced. So, I will keep your heart here, in our most private place.

"I think I will make a sort of clear acrylic case to protect that ceramic heart. As you noted, hearts are fragile, and I wish never to break either your real one, or this replica. I am a brilliant man, Nicole: although I say it, myself, we know that it is true. I am gifted more than most with an enlightened mind, and I enjoy using it, to hopefully improve life for all mankind. But one of my proudest accomplishments was to capture your living heart. You have brought me a tranquility that I have never before known. That, my dear, is the finest gift that I have received in my lifetime. Thank you for caring about this old man and for sharing your life with him." He lifted her chin and kissed her.

Finn stepped into his arms and they clung together for awhile. Then, she led the way past her pedestal, her heart jumping as she passed it, marveling that this brilliant man had built such an item for her, and they walked out and looked again at the nova.

She leaned into him and started singing, "Silent Night", and he joined her. Farther down the veranda, John and Marguerite heard, and added their voices. They, too, had gone out to watch the wonder in the heavens.

When they had finished, John Roxton called across to the other couple and wished them a good night and a Happy Christmas. They wished the Roxtons the same.

"I think that's supposed to be, 'Merry Christmas',"intoned Ned Malone from the deck below, where he and Vee stood, also watching the phenomenon in the sky. "Anyway, to all, a good night."

"Good night, indeed," murmured Challenger, as he led Nicole back into their room, shutting the veranda door and locking it against all alarms, human and feral. Within that room, all was at peace, to a degree that he seldom enjoyed.

"Ohmigosh, look at that!"exclaimed Finn, staring upward in alarm.

He looked, calculating the distance to his .45 Colt resting on the nightstand, wondering what might have crept in. He saw only a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. Just as he registered the significance of this item, she stepped forward and her lips were on his. "Gotcha, Genius!" she laughed.

(We, the writers, hope that your Christmas is as satisfying and heartwarming as this one was in the Treehouse.)

The End


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